The Bat-Knight
by Another Terrible Author
Summary: A masked vigilante takes it upon himself to wage a one-mammal war against the crime and corruption plaguing Zootopia, but with the police on his tail and an ever-growing rogues gallery, he has to fight every step of the way to protect his home.
1. Bat-Knight Begins

Eric slowly trudged his way up the concrete steps, the heavy stomping of his hooves echoing loudly throughout the stairwell. His legs felt wobbly and weak from the constant climbing between the rooftop and bottom floor, his arms burned from carrying heavy boxes and bags, such as the one currently over his shoulder, and thanks to the thick coat of wool he had neglected to shear for several months, heatstroke was quickly becoming a concern.

He stopped mid-way through his climb and set down the bag, giving his limbs a much-needed rest. His eyes traveled downward toward the sack resting on the steps. After glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, he untied the rope around the neck of the sack, and peered inside, a gleeful smile spreading across his face. Earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets, all made of glittering gold and precious gems; worth more than enough to buy him that penthouse in Sahara Square he had his eyes on for all these years. Energized with the thought of his happy ending, Eric slung the sack back over his shoulder, and continued his trek toward the top of the stairs with renewed vigor.

Another four stories later, Eric reached the rooftop access. He opened the door, and the cool, crisp air of the night filled his nostrils. It wasn't nearly as gratifying as the anticipation of his impending payday, but he appreciated it nonetheless. The rooftop was too high up to be lit by the streetlights dotting the downtown district, so the only illumination he had as he walked outside was a dim, flickering light fixated directly above the door. Despite the dark, he successfully made his way to the modest pile of bags and boxes he had been assembling the entire night, and dropped the sack of jewelry on top.

"That's the last of it," he sighed contently. "Still no sign of the Fuzz, Bruce?"

"Not a single patrol the whole night." Jumping away from the guardrail facing the street below, a skinny, scruffy-looking cat with sandy fur walked up next to Eric and sat down on top of one of the boxes. "Not that I'm complainin' or anythin'; makes our jobs easier, but it's weird, y'know? Normally they're swarmin' downtown around this time o'night."

"Like I said, they're busy in Tundra Town," Eric said. "Falcone and Big tend to make a lot of noise during their 'disputes'."

"Heh, I might be startin' to enjoy this little gang war," Bruce said. "Cops're thinnin' out the competition, competition's thinnin' out the cops, and while everyone's distracted with tryin' to kill each other, we can do whatever we want! Those brochures don't lie, Ramdomski; Zootopia is a wonderful place!"

"Then let's get all this loaded up in the van before they're done," Eric said, picking up a relatively small, but still quite sizable box and presenting it to the cat. "Stick with the smaller stuff like these rings. Don't want you breaking anything fragile."

"I'm not gonna' break anythin', you-" Bruce dropped to the ground the second Eric let go of the box. He struggled to his feet, still trying to hold onto the box. " _Holy mother of_ \- what're these rings made of?! Lead?"

"Gold, actually."

Bruce readjusted his grip on the box and waddled toward the fire escape. "Blimey, I should give you a part of my share for havin' to do this all night… but I'm not goin' to 'cause you already promised me fifty-fifty. A deal's a deal, am I right?"

Eric contemplated butting the cat off the side of the building, but pushed aside the thought, if only because he was too tired to murder the only help he had with moving the merchandise off the roof. "Whatever," he said, finding himself grabbing the sack of jewelry he had only just set down. "Let's just hurry this up. Every second we sit here is another second that something could go-" The light above the door shattered, and what little light Eric had to work with vanished into the night. "...wrong..."

"Well that's inconvenient," Bruce said. "For you, anyway."

"How'd that even happen?" Eric asked. He squinted toward the source of the sound, but still couldn't make anything out in the dark. "Light bulbs don't just explode like that."

"Probably the wirin' in this place," Bruce said. "Elevator was out of order, and the security system should've started a fire a decade ago; not too much of a stretch to assume they mucked up a light."

"...You threw something at it, didn't you?"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"So you could run off with the goods and leave me behind."

"I'm glad there's so much trust between us," Bruce said bitterly. "What makes you think I can get away with the rest of the loot if I'm sittin' here about to break my back carryin' the smallest box we got?"

"Good point…"

"Yeah, it is," Bruce said. "Now c'mon; you were just chewin' me out for not movin'."

"I can't see."

"Then follow the sound of my voice," Bruce sang. "Like a ship bein' lured by the song of a beautiful Siren…"

The cat wasn't right in the head, but considering that he was the only one that could see in the dark, Eric had little choice but to trust him. He took a few tentative steps forward, slowly increasing in speed as he felt more confident in his path.

"That's right. A little to the left... Keep goin', keep goin'..."

"I heard you the first time, fleaba-" With a loud clang, Eric's foot collided with a metal vent, and he toppled face-first onto the ground.

"Ooh, I felt that one," Bruce giggled.

"So did I…" Eric groaned, pushing himself off the ground. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"You really don't trust me, do you? So much for bein' partners… alright I admit it! I did it, and lemme' tell you, it's bloody hilarious! Speakin' of, you've got a little somethin' under your nose there."

Eric wiped his nose on his sleeve and glared in what he assumed to be Bruce's general direction. "You realize if I crack my skull open you're going to have to bring all this down by yourself, right?"

"Eh, good point," Bruce said. "Just keep goin' straight until I tell you to stop. For real this time, I swear on it."

Eric continued forward, this time keeping his slow, cautious pace with his free hand out in front of him. He wondered if he'd be too tired to murder Bruce after moving the loot to the van. He'd still need a flashlight or something to see where to throw him off, but… wait.

Eric slapped his forehead. "I am such an idiot," he muttered, digging into his pocket for his phone. He turned on the device's flashlight function, and a beam of steady white light cut through the darkness. "Bruce, if you say a word about this, I will literally-" He shone the light towards Bruce, secretly hoping to blind him with the bright LED, but where the cat had been standing, there was nothing.

"Bruce?" he called out, looking across the roof. The cat was nowhere in sight. "If you don't come out I'm just going to take the loot and go." Still no response. Somewhat frustrated, Eric turned back toward the fire escape, ready to begin the monotonous task of loading the pile of valuables into the van on his own.

The light whistle of something cutting through the air rushed past Eric's ear, and what felt like a razor sliced across his wrist, the sudden pain forcing him to drop his phone and the bag as he cradled the wound. A powerful blow struck the side of his jaw, the sheer force knocking him to the ground. He tried to get back up, only to be struck down again by another blow to the back of his head.

For a moment, Eric seemed to lose all feeling, the night somehow becoming even darker. Slowly, sensation returned to his body, and he reached to rub his throbbing jaw, but found that he couldn't move his arms. His eyes snapped open, and his heart pounded in his chest. He could see the street nine stories below him, with nothing but the rope wrapped tightly around his chest and arms preventing him from plummeting to his demise.

"Struggle, and I let go."

Eric looked up, trying to find the source of the voice, but all he saw was the rope leading up over the edge of the roof. "Who are you and what do you want from me?" he whimpered.

"Where's Falcone?"

"Huh? H-how should I know?"

The rope swung backwards, slamming the back of Eric's head against the brick building. "That's not what I wanted to hear."

"I-I swear I don't know anything!"

"You came here tonight because you knew that the ZPD would be distracted by another one of Falcone's attacks. Tell me how you found out, or you'll be nothing more than a stain on the sidewalk."

"You've got the wrong sheep! Please, I'm telling the truth!"

"You have until the count of three."

"N-no no, I'm begging you!"

"One." The rope lowered slightly.

"I'll do whatever you want!"

"Two." The rope lowered a bit more.

"I have money!"

"Thr-"

"ALRIGHT! I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK!" Eric screamed. "His name is Lupus! Ignazio Lupus! I-I overheard him talking about Falcone's plans a few nights ago! Something about a bank!"

"Where can I find him?"

"He rents a room at the Shady Oasis Motel in Sahara Square! J-just don't tell him I sent you, alright?"

"... Is that all?"

"That's everything I can tell you! I swear on my life!"

"...Hm. Then I don't need you anymore." The rope started lowering.

"W-wait, wait! You said you wouldn't kill me if I talked!"

"I know your type. You think that your miserable existence justifies your greed, that the world owes you a debt for your own failures and misfortunes. You won't learn anything from mercy."

"I'll retire! Pay my taxes! Volunteer at a soup kitchen! Just spare me, please!"

"As you see that ground rushing toward you, I want you to remember these words: I am the Bat-Knight, and this city is _mine_."

Eric screamed as the rope fully slackened, sending him plummeting toward the ground. The rope halted just before his head slammed into the concrete below, the sudden stop nearly crushing his ribs. He could barely breath from the tightness of his binds and the pain in his chest, but he lacked the words to express how relieved he was to be alive.

"Well this went pear-shaped pretty quick, huh Ramdomski?"

Eric looked over to his right. Bruce was hanging from the building in a fashion similar to himself, looking rather grotesque with one of his eyes swollen shut and several patches of missing fur dotting his face.

"Where'd all this rope even come from, right? Didn't even know you could get any this long."

"...shut up."

"Aw, don't be like that! Sure, we nearly got killed and we're danglin' from the side of a buildin', but it can't get worse!"

Sirens blared in the distance, red and blue lights overtaking the dull yellow streetlights as the sound drew closer.

"I don't know why I said that. Literally nothin' good would have come of it…"

As the police cars stopped in front of the building, Eric heard the flapping of wings up above. A dark figured streaked across the sky and landed on top of one of the nearby buildings. His eyes almost seemed to glow under the moonlight, glaring at the two dangling criminals with an unspoken threat before he took off again and disappeared into the night.

Eric hadn't a clue who this Bat-Knight was or why he wanted the city's most dangerous crime boss so badly, but after tonight, he knew one thing for sure; this town was about to become an absolute madhouse.

* * *

"Fangmeyer, Delgato, you two are needed at the Tundra Town crime-scene." The tiger and lion rose from their seats and marched out the door without a word. Bogo mentally applauded himself for getting their names right this time.

"Wolford, Higgins, meet up with the catnip cartel whistle-blower and bring him to the station for questioning." Wolford almost seemed disappointed to leave his (disturbingly convincing) sheep disguise behind, while his hippo partner equipped his fake mustache despite how ill-suited it was to their assignment.

"Hopps and Wilde…" Bogo glanced up from his folder. Hopps sat in her chair with a wide, enthusiastic smile, eagerly awaiting instructions. Wilde had his feet up on the table in front of him, idly drinking coffee while staring at the wall behind the chief, rather than directly at him, with an undeservedly smug grin plastered across his muzzle. "I need to have word in private with the both of you," he said. Hopps' smile quickly faded, and a quick series of emotions spread across her face, ranging from concern, to self-doubt, to an accusing glare towards her partner, and finally, a tense, nervous expression. Wilde merely raised an eyebrow before returning to his coffee.

Bogo handed out assignments to the few remaining officers, and within a few short minutes, the room was empty aside from Hopps, Wilde, and himself. He reached under his podium, grabbed the file he had stowed away earlier, and walked over to the pair, making no attempt to hide his displeasure.

"This is your assignment," he said, tossing the file onto the table in front of them.

The two exchanged perplexed glances. "Is… there a reason you didn't give this to us earlier?" Hopps asked, still uncertain if whether or not she was to receive one of Bogo's infamous 'lectures'.

" _Blatant favoritism,_ " Bogo growled.

"Aw, that's sweet of you, Chief," Wilde said. "I know it's hard to say because you've gotta' maintain that image of a big tough cop, but it's alright; we love you too."

"If it were up to me, both of you would be doing an elementary school presentation on the dangers of jaywalking," Bogo snapped. "However, our very own Mayor Swinton called me this morning demanding that you two be put to work on this instead of having an actual detective do the job, babbled about diversity and public relations for half an hour, and subtly threatened to deny the funding increase we've needed ever since Falcone started tearing up the city."

Hopps' jaw nearly hit the ground. Even Wilde seemed genuinely taken aback by the blatant corruption.

"You know, I suddenly regret voting for her," he said.

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal for her to even do that," Hopps said. "Why don't you bring it up to the city council? Or the media?"

"She was careful enough with her wording so that she merely implied the threat," Bogo said. "Maybe she'd get some negative press for it, but it wouldn't be enough to get her in court. I'd just be wasting my time trying to fight it."

"Why does she want _us_ anyway?" Wilde asked. "It's been like two, almost three years since we dealt with Bellwether. I'd bet nobody even remembers that we were involved in that."

"Swinton apparently thinks the two of you are the greatest detectives to ever walk the planet," Bogo snorted, almost laughing from the absurdity of the statement. "Nevermind the fact that you're both just lieutenants," he muttered.

"So, what're we up against?" Hopps asked, regaining the determined look Bogo knew her for. "We've been talking about why we've been assigned this case, but unless we know what we're supposed to do, we're wasting time."

"Agreed," Bogo said affirmatively. He flipped open the folder to the first page, revealing a full-body composite sketch of a costumed bat. "For three nights in a row, we've had crimes-in-progress stopped by a masked vigilante calling himself the 'Bat-Knight'," he said. "Last night around mid-night, he-"

"Oh my God, that is _hilarious!_ "

Bogo turned to Wilde, who was about to fall out of his seat from laughing so hard. "What could _possibly_ be funny about this?" he growled.

"This guy looks like he leapt of the pages of one of those cheesy comic books I had as a kid!" Wilde snickered. "Look! He's even wearing his underpants on the outside of his tights!" He relapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Nick, could you please try and take this seriously?" Hopps asked.

"C'mon, this is comedy gold!" he exclaimed. "What part of a bat dressing up like a Silver-Age superhero isn't the funniest thing ever?"

"On the second night he shattered a raccoon's spine so severely that she will likely never be able to walk again," Bogo said.

"...Oh."

"I thought so," Bogo muttered. "As I was saying, he stopped a cat and a sheep from robbing a local department store's jewelry section, strung them up with rope, threw them off the side of the building, and left them dangling there until officers arrived on the scene to cut them down and arrest them."

"That seems excessively brutal," Hopps noted. "I mean, he didn't break their spines this time, but…"

"Which is probably why he's grabbed the attention of the mayor," Bogo said. "I imagine the media will latch onto him as well if his spree of violence continues. Knowing them, they'll spin him into some kind of hero doing what we legally, and morally can't."

"So you want us to unmask this guy and bring him in, right?" Wilde asked.

"I thought that much was obvious," Bogo said. "You have a month. That's when City Hall decides on its annual budget plan, and if this psycho isn't caught by then, it's going to be a problem not just for Precinct One, but for the entirety of Zootopia's law enforcement."

Wilde nodded. "So, no pressure. Got it."

Bogo made a mental note to assign him a month's worth of parking duty after this was over. "I'd recommend you get started immediately," he said. "Familiarize yourself with the case file, and do whatever you feel is necessary to move on from there. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Hopps cheered, grabbing the file and bounding out of her chair.

"What she said!" Wilde gave Bogo lazy salute and followed Hopps out the door, leaving the Chief alone in the briefing room.

Bogo would never admit it, but he had a lot of faith in those two. They didn't find the missing mammals in two days through sheer luck, but because they probably were some of the best investigators that ever worked under him. Despite their relative inexperience, they seemed to have a better grasp on teamwork and critical thinking than even some of his veteran officers. Although he honestly would've rather had an experienced detective work on the Bat-Knight case, he had a feeling that they'd be able to power through it… or at least he hoped so.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughtful trance. He picked it up and answered it without looking at the number. "Chief Bogo speaking," he said.

"Hello, Chief," came the posh voice of an older gentleman.

"Alfred Whinnyworth!" Bogo exclaimed. "It's been too long, old friend. How's Bruce doing? Still getting used to the new Zootopia after going abroad for all these years?"

"You could say that, yes," Alfred said respectfully. "I apologize if I'm interrupting anything, but I'm calling to confirm your presence at the Drayne Foundation Charity Ball tomorrow evening."

"Of course I'll be there," Bogo said. "I paid an arm and a leg for a spot on the guest list, didn't I?"

"Excellent. Master Bruce is very much looking forward to seeing you again. He has a number of stories he wishes to share about his time overseas."

"I'm sure he does. Seven years worth, if I'm not mistaken. That's good, because I've been saving a few myself. Have you told him about the Night Howler Conspiracy?"

"Not quite yet."

"Good; I've been dying to tell him that one," Bogo chuckled. He looked at his watch. "Hm, I'm afraid I have to cut this short, Alfred. Duty calls."

"Very well. It was good to talk to you again," Alfred said. "Have a nice day, sir."

"Take care, Aflred," Bogo said. "Tell Bruce I said 'hi'." He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket, now in a considerably better mood than before. During a simpler time, Bogo would invite Bruce to the station, let him mingle with the other officers, sometimes even go out on patrol with him.

Realizing that he was about to be late for a meeting, Bogo set aside his sentimental musings and exited the briefing room, bracing himself for yet another day of the worst, and the best Zootopia had to offer.

* * *

 **Author's Ramblings:**

Now this was a ton of fun to write. I've been planning this crossover for quite some time now, and lemme tell you, I have an absolute treasure trove of puns up my sleeve. This is your first and last warning.

This isn't going to be an adaptation of any particular Batman story or universe, but I've taken heavy inspiration from _Batman: The Animated Series_ , the _Dark Knight_ film trilogy, the Tim Burton films, _Batman: Year One_ , and the _Arkham_ games. Figured I'd turn this story into a giant homage to Batman in general, seeing as how much I love the series.

Thanks to President Stalkeyes for coming up with the name 'Bat-Knight' in the first place. Check out his story, _BvB: Butting Heads_. It has absolutely nothing to do with Batman outside of a few references, but if you like well-written OCs and seeing Bellwether get some backstory, it won't disappoint in the least.

As per usual, I look forward to any criticisms or comments you may have. Tell me what to improve on so I can avoid making another _Batman & Robin... _Nah, what am I saying? Even I can't recreate something that horrible. You just can't top Bat Nipples.

For the record, this is in no way connected to my other story, _The Maddox Family_. Felt like a clean slate would make things a lot easier on me.


	2. A Nightime Drive

Sahara Square was by far one of Zootopia's least popular districts during the day. From the bland palette of brown and various other, equally uninteresting shades of brown, to the sweltering heat and blinding sun, there was very little appeal to visit for those who weren't adapted to life in the desert. Once dusk fell, however, it was a very different story.

Taking advantage of the much more tolerable nighttime temperatures, crowds flooded the vibrant casinos and bars dotting the landscape, and the colossal Oasis Hotel, already the district's most striking attraction during the day, lit up in a spectacular fashion, beckoning mammals from across the city to indulge in their vices without consequence. Naturally, crime thrived in this sort of environment, with many of the casinos being fronts for money-laundering and smuggling rings, if they weren't quietly being extorted for protection money. Mr. Big ruled the district with almost no competition through such operations, so while corruption was widespread, violence was rare outside of the occasional bar fight or mugging.

At least, that's how it was until Falcone decided to intrude.

Where there had been one mob boss keeping some level of peace, there were now two, engaged in a deadly turf war with little regard for the poor souls that got caught in between. Armed guards stood outside almost every building, trigger fingers twitching, eyeing every mammal or vehicle that came their way in anticipation for when the other side would inevitably attack. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, yet the casinos stayed open, and gamblers kept walking through the door, seemingly oblivious to the blatant danger surrounding them.

Bruce would have looked down on taking such risks little more than a few weeks ago, but as he stood at the edge of a high rooftop, armed with a variety of sharp tools and explosives with the intention of directly confronting the gang members responsible for the aforementioned danger, it seemed just a tad hypocritical.

He spread his wings and took off towards the west, away from the vibrant nightlife surrounding the center of the district and into a maze of dark alleyways and dilapidated buildings of the more neglected side of the Palm District, a sort of transitional area between Sahara Square and Savana Central. Hardly anyone, save for the homeless or a select few scantily clad figures offering 'services', was out on the street at this time of night, almost assuring that he would remain unseen.

After a short while, Bruce landed on top of a laundromat overlooking his target; the Shady Oasis Motel. It was a seedy little place that had attempted to cash-in on the prestige of the Oasis Hotel with it's shamelessly misleading name, but as evident from its decrepit construction and the piles of litter scattered across the property, had failed miserably in doing so.

Bruce lifted a claw to the earpiece implanted into his cowl. "Alfred, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Master Bruce," came the response from his faithful butler, his voice somewhat distorted by static. "I presume you've reached your destination?"

"I'm looking over the place right now," Bruce said. "No sign of Lupus yet, but according to my informant, he should be here soon. He keeps a room here for when he's in the mood, and after last night's bank heist, he probably has enough cash to hire every escort in the district."

"You realize your 'informant' is an anti-social brute that lives in a van, yes?"

"He was right about Ramdomski and Tomm being at the department store last night."

"Fair point," Alfred conceded. "But putting aside the reliability of your sources, I can't help but feel that you're taking a rather large risk targeting Mr. Lupus tonight."

Bruce watched as large, expensive-looking black sports car drove into the motel's parking lot, parking haphazardly in a handicapped spot. "You've said that about literally every criminal I've taken down so far."

"Sir, this is a wolf we're talking about; your largest opponent yet! One swipe of those claws and you'll be torn to pieces! I really wish you would wait until we can reinforce your suit, at least."

"I'll be fine, Alfred," Bruce said reassuringly, watching the driver of the car stumble out of the front seat. He was a tall, muscular timber wolf wearing a bowler hat and a fine, though disheveled-looking three piece suit. He shuffled slowly towards his room, tripping over his own feet and bumping into random objects along the way.

"Lupus just arrived," Bruce said. "He's alone, which is… unexpected."

"I see little reason to complain," Alfred said. "Fewer witnesses means you can cover your tracks better."

"Suppose so, but it seems off somehow," Bruce said. "This guy makes enough money to afford a suite in the Oasis Hotel, bur he's coming here instead? Without anyone or anything with him? It just doesn't seem add up."

Lupus bumped his head against a perfectly stationary street lamp, and spewed a tirade of nonsensical insults and colorful swears directed towards the structure's mother.

"And suddenly, things make a little more sense. Talk to you later, Alfred."

Bruce switched off the earpiece, and with a mighty flap of his wings, he took to the sky and dove into the back of Lupus' head, slamming the wolf's face against the ground. Before Lupus could recover, Bruce gripped the side of his head and drew one of his bat-shaped shurikens (or 'batarangs', as Alfred affectionately referred to them) from his belt, holding it close to Lupus' throat.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Ignazio," Bruce growled. "Tell me everything you know about Carmine Falcone, or things get messy."

"Pretty sweet knife there, little guy," Lupus chuckled, his repugnant breath making Bruce's eyes water. Despite the blade hovering over his neck, the wolf was completely relaxed, as if he were laying on the ground by his own volition. "How- um, how do you get somfin like that… shaped like yerself? It's kinda silly, amiright?"

"Answer the question!"

"I was askin' _yous_ a question, shortstack!"

Bruce pressed the flat side of the blade against the Lupus' neck, the wolf gagging slightly from the pressure. "What do you know about Falcone?" he demanded. "I'm not asking again!"

"You sir… are bein' rude… and that's rude," Lupus slurred. "And you know what?... That makes me feel… wha's the word? Oh, yeah! It makes me feel like _ripping yer' tiny head off!_ "

Lupus broke out from beneath Bruce's grip, slashing at the bat's side with his claws as he wildly thrashed about. The wound wasn't particularly deep, allowing Bruce to quickly retreat from Lupus, and throw the batarang toward the wolf. The blade struck his arm, but Lupus didn't even flinch as he dashed back towards his car, moving with considerably less difficulty than before.

Bruce gave chase, but Lupus leapt into the driver seat before he could reach him, and the car roared to life. Bruce drew another batarang from his belt, and flew on top of the car as it started to speed out of the parking lot. He gripped tightly around the batarang and sank it into the car's roof, managing to secure himself just before the car took off into the street, sideswiping another vehicle and obliterating a stop sign as it careened down the road at breakneck speeds.

It did not take long for Bruce to realize he had made a very poor choice.

* * *

Nick braked softly, letting his convertible come to a smooth, seamless halt in front of the red light. He sighed contently as the purr of the engine massaged his body, the troubles of yet another long day of work practically melting away. "See, Carrots? This is what you miss hiding away in that cubicle all day," he said. "Fresh air, a beautiful night sky, no grumpy buffaloes to shout at us about working overtime… really can't get much better than this, can it?"

He turned to face his partner, expecting to see her enjoying the night just as he was, but instead, she had her nose stuck in the Bat-Knight case file, having somehow smuggled it out of the office. He wordlessly snatched the folder out of her hands.

" _Hey!_ " Judy reached over and tried to reclaim the file, but Nick quickly moved it just beyond her limited reach.

"Was working at the station until two in the morning just not enough for you?" Nick asked, examining the oddly worn folder. "I can't tell if you're trying to get high off of sleep deprivation or if you legitimately have no idea how to relax."

"How do you expect me to relax when the entire city's law police force is depending on us to solve this case, and we haven't made any progress whatsoever?!" Judy said. "Now give it back!"

Nick stroked his chin thoughtfully, then tossed the folder into the back seat. "Remind me, why haven't we made any progress?"

"Other than you not taking this seriously?" Judy asked dryly.

"Heh, good one. Seriously though, what is the number one reason we've hit a dead end?"

"I'd say an almost complete lack of concrete evidence."

"And do you know why there's no evidence?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"Just answer the question, Fluff."

"Okay, then," she sighed irritably. "There's no evidence because the Bat-Knight's not leaving any prints or anything else that could help identify him, even on those stupid little batarang thingies, and our witnesses either won't talk, physically can't talk, or don't have anything important to say at all."

"And what can we do about that?"

Judy raised an eyebrow. "...nothing?"

"Exactly!" Nick exclaimed with snap of his fingers. "Why stress yourself out about something you can't do anything about? You might as well be worried about nothing at all."

"Did I mention that the safety of the _entire city's police force is in our hands?!_ " Judy snapped. "Because both of us should be pretty concerned with that."

"But what's the point?" Nick asked. "We'll sit there stressing ourselves out while not doing anything productive, and then once we can do something, it'll be so overwhelming that we'll probably fail so horribly it'll make Crystal Pawpsi look like a booming success by comparison."

"...I was taking you pretty seriously up until you brought up that gimmicky soda."

"First thing that popped into my head. Blame the fact that I haven't slept in about twenty hours," Nick shrugged. "But what I'm trying to say is, we should wait until the case actually starts to pick up a little before we tear our fur out over it. Trust me, it'll make for a much smoother ride for everyone involved."

"Guess you're right," Judy sighed. "It's just kinda frustrating, you know? Normally we would've been out chasing the bad guy by this point, or at least have a decent lead, not getting out-played by some violent freak with a thing for spandex. Feels like we've taken a huge step backwards compared to how things usually go..."

"That's life," Nick shrugged. "Not every one of our cases has got to be some grand adventure filled with car chases and explosions."

Both were sent flying forwards in their seats as the crunching of steel and shattering of glass brought the stillness of the night to a violent end. Nick struggled to push the airbag protruding from his steering wheel out of his face, eventually managing to deflate it by swiping at it with his claws. "You alright, Carrots?" he panted, pulling tattered bits of cloth from his paws.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, looking a bit dazed from the impact, but otherwise unharmed. "What just hit us?"

Nick looked through the shattered remains of the windshield. "Hmm… I'd place my bet on the large black car on top of what's left of my front bumper."

Judy stood up in her seat to get a better look at the scene. The front ends of both cars were little more than mangled hunks of steel, the broken glass littered across their jagged hoods glittering lightly under the street lamps. "Looks pretty bad out there," she said. "You think the other driver's okay?"

"I certainly hope so," Nick said. "If they're dead, getting their insurance to pay for my repairs is going to be a nightmare."

Judy shot Nick a cautionary glare.

"Jeez, I was only kidding… partially, anyway," he muttered, averting his eyes from Judy's deathly gaze. "Probably should go see if everyone's alright. Protect and serve and all that."

With an approving nod, Judy hopped out of the car, careful to avoid stepping on the shards of glass littered across the road. Nick followed soon after, slowly walking around the wreckage to meet up with this partner.

"Looks even worse from out here," he said, his smug demeanor dropping as he looked over the remains of his beloved vehicle.

"Hey, cheer up! I'm sure after a few weeks in the body shop she'll be as good as new," Judy said, patting the car lightly.

She jumped back as the front bumper smashed against the ground, exposing the crushed, mangled remains of what one could only assume used to be the engine within.

"You know, I somehow doubt it's going to be that easy," Nick sighed.

They walked up to the driver side door of the other vehicle. It was a fair bit larger than Nick's car, and had taken significantly less damage as a result, but still looked like it had been sat on by a morbidly obese elephant.

Nick banged on the door with rather unnecessary force. "Hey! You still alive in there?" He and Judy waited for a few moments, but were met only by silence. "Well, I tried. Got any ideas, Carrots? Oh! Maybe we should bust out the windows! Just to make sure the driver's okay, of course."

"Please keep your revenge fantasies to yourself," Judy groaned. She jumped onto the door handle and peered inside the window. "I can't see anything in there," she said, squinting her eyes and pressing up close against the glass. "Having any better luck with that night vision you always brag about?"

"For once, not really," Nick said. "These windows are so tinted they might as well be black slabs of stone… which calls for a hefty fine, if I recall."

"We can worry about punishing a potentially injured mammal later, Nick," Judy said, hopping off the door. She banged loudly on the door. "If you can hear us, we're going to call for help!"

Judy just barely ducked out of the way as the door flung open, and a wolf donning a three-piece suit and a dented bowler hat stumbled out onto the road. He reeked of bile, wet fur, and excessive amounts of cheap cologne, the stench only intensifying as he approached the two officers.

"I-I'm okay!" he slurred, raising his hands in the air. "Don't call… anyone! I'm fine! I'm just intox… into… I'm just drunk… and I really don' need the cops to find out…"

Nick casually polished his badge while Judy stared at the wolf with a mix of confusion and pity. "It's funny you should mention that," Nick said, "because it just so happens that _both_ of-"

"M _Y CAR!_ " the wolf shouted, having turned around in the opposite direction. "Who- who's car is that?! Tha-that stupid red one!"

"That would be mine," Nick said, his mood visibly souring. "And as I was saying, we're-"

"Freakin' pig!" The wolf lumbering over to Nick and planted an accusing finger into his chest. "I'm gonna' file a-a... I'm gonna' sue you for this! And you're… gonna' pay for my med- my doctor bills!"

"Oh, I like where this is going," Nick muttered, shoving the wolf off of himself. "Listen buddy, I like to think I'm a pretty fair cop, but if you-"

"Hey! Y-you can't touch me, pig!" the wolf snapped, ineffectively trying to smooth out his wrinkled suit. "I'll sue you!... again!"

"Yes we can, actually. It would be pretty hard to arrest idiots like you otherwise," Nick said calmly. "Also, think you could let me talk for just-"

"S-shut up, pig! You're gonna' hear from my attorn.. m-my atoo… my lawyer!"

"Why do you keep calling me a pig? Is that supposed to be an insult or something? Because that really doesn't reflect well on your character."

" _Hey!_ How about we just calm down and talk about this like adults! That sounds nice, right?" Judy said gently, but with an irritated glare towards Nick. "We can have a nice, civil discussion, exchange insurance information, maybe make a quick phone call-"

"No, I don't have time," the wolf growled. "I-I got to get out of here! Fast!"

"And look where that's gotten you so far," Nick grumbled, staring at the wreckage of his car.

"It wasn't my fault, you freakin' pig!" the wolf shouted. "S-some weirdo's tryin' to kill me! First, he hit my head, t-then he tried to shank me, _and then_ he jumped on my car and- OW!"

A small, round object struck his eye, and bounced onto the ground.

"Stupid pig! Y-you tried to kill me!" he shouted, holding a paw to his other, uninjured eye.

"The idea is nice, but I don't think I tried to kill anyone with… whatever this is," Nick said, picking up the curious item and examining it. "It's just a little plastic pellet. I honestly can't imagine this could cause you any amount of pain."

Thick smoke burst from the object, enveloping everything in sight in swirling white fog. Nick gasped in surprise, but went into a coughing fit as soon as he inhaled the smoke. A small hand grabbed onto his and dragged him forward, forcing him to run despite the burning in his lungs. The smoke cleared a short distance later, unsurprisingly revealing his savior to be none other than Judy. The two sat down behind the wolf's car, the clean air giving them a chance to breath unimpeded.

"Okay, can't say I saw that coming," Nick wheezed. "Usually don't see smoke bombs until New Year's…"

"Think that wolf made it out alright?" Judy asked, looking back towards the smoke cloud.

"He seems to be running just fine to me," Nick said.

Judy turned her head and saw the wolf stumbling down the sidewalk, still coughing and wheezing from the smoke. Every few steps he would trip and catch himself on the side of a building, and then try to go into a full sprint, only to trip again and repeat the rather sad cycle.

"Well, mostly, anyway," Nick shrugged. He rose to his feet and dusted himself off. "Guess we should go get him before he hurts himself, as hilarious and well-deserved as that would be."

Just as the pair started their leisurely walk towards the drunken wolf, a dark blur tackled him alleyway, knocking him out of sight without a sound. Nick and Judy stopped in their tracks to process what they had just seen.

"You saw that too, right?" Judy asked.

"A mysterious black shadow dragging the Big Bad Bigot into the depths of a dark alley? Yes, yes I did," Nick said. "You know, uh, since you're always so eager to do this police stuff, I think I'll just stay out here and call a tow truck or something."

Judy let out an exasperated groan and grabbed Nick by the hand. She dragged him over to the alleyway, ignoring the fox's struggles and protests to free himself from her grasp. Quickly and quietly, she pressed herself up against the front of one of the buildings and peered over the corner and into the alley. Nick sat his head on top of hers, observing the scene from between her ears.

A small, dim light hung over the door to one of the buildings, providing just enough light to reveal a figure cloaked in black, standing over the still, limp body of the wolf near the very end of the alley.

"The Bat-Knight!?" Judy gasped in a hushed whisper. "He's here?!"

"Huh. So much for not making any progress on the case," Nick said.

"What is he doing here? Why'd he attack that wolf?" Judy asked. "... and why is he so small?"

"You realize bats tend to be really tiny, right?" Nick asked. "Even that file you read like a hundred times explicitly noted that this guy was about three and a half inches tall."

"I thought that was a typo!" Judy said. "You can't really blame me for thinking that someone taking down mammals over ten times their size is a bit out there, right?"

Nick stared at her incredulously. "Did… did the irony of that just sail over your head, or…?" Judy looked at him with a confused expression. "I'm going to take that as a 'yes'," he muttered, much to Judy's continued bewilderment.

"Okay then… Back on topic, how are we going to bring this guy in?" Judy asked.

"Well, we could do the sensible thing and call the station for backup, seeing as how this is a dangerous, and possibly armed criminal we're up against," Nick said.

"Or…" Judy said, pulling out her ZPD-issued air-powered tranquilizer gun, a single, brightly colored dart already loaded in.

"You were planning to dart him regardless of what I suggested, weren't you?"

"Pretty much."

Judy stepped away from of the building and aimed her weapon straight down the alley, the tip of the dart hovering just over the Bat-Knight. He was still standing over the wolf, digging through his pockets, completely unaware of the two officers watching him. "Night-night, Bat-Knight."

"Lamest one-liner ever," Nick yawned.

"Shut up."

Judy squeezed the trigger, but no sooner did the dart go flying did the Bat-Knight spin around and throw a volley of spinning blades, one cleanly slicing the dart in two, another knocking Judy's weapon out of her hand.

There was a moment of tense, stunned silence as Judy slowly came to grasp that she might have made a very poor choice.

"Impressive aim, Lieutenant," the Bat-Knight said, his voice surprisingly deep and gravelly despite his minuscule size. He stood up straight and wrapped his wings tightly around his body, making him seem ever so slightly taller. "Can't say I appreciate that you were aiming for me, however."

"Don't come any closer!" Judy warned. She looked behind her for the dart gun, but found that the batarang that had struck it was deeply embedded inside the barrel; even if she could reach it before the Bat-Knight could react, the thing was useless. "Just… just stay right there until-" Turning back towards the alley, Judy realized that the bat was nowhere in sight. "Wha-? Nick, where the heck did he go?"

"I don't know!" he said, looking equally dumbfounded. "I looked away for just a second and he disappeared!"

"Up here."

Nick and Judy looked up towards the street lamp just above them. The Bat-Knight was perched upside down from one of the decorative metal struts on the lamp post, staring intensely at them with his oddly luminescent eyes.

"Woah, how'd he-?! Oh, right. Wings..." Nick said quietly. "Think this lack of sleep is really starting to get to me."

"What're you doing here?" Judy asked. "Why'd you attack that wolf?"

"His name is Ignazio Lupus," the Bat-Knight responded. "He works for Carmine Falcone as one of his top enforcers. He's the one responsible for the bank robbery in Tundra Town last night, along with a number of sudden 'vacations' by Mr. Big's allies, and other opponents of the Falcone crime family."

"I don't suppose you have any proof of this, do you?" Judy asked, "For all we know, you could've made that up just so we didn't catch onto some sort of elaborate revenge scheme or something."

The Bat-Knight tossed an old flip phone into the air, and Judy dove to catch it. "That phone was in Lupus' coat pocket. It's filled with contacts and messages between Lupus and other members of Falcone's mob. All the proof you need to connect him to the crimes he's committed is on there. See for yourself."

Judy opened the phone and turned it on. Just as the Bat-Knight said, messages blatantly discussing plans for hits, robberies, and drive-bys between Lupus and several other well-known mafiosos, including a few that had already been convicted for their connections to organized crime, filled the device's inbox. The messages spanned several months, dating all the way back to when Falcone was only just starting his crime spree in Zootopia.

"Okay, so what's the catch?" Nick asked. "You could've flown away at any moment this entire conversation, and yet you're still here, actively helping us out. There's something you want out of this, isn't there?"

"Sort of," the Bat-Knight said. "I want Falcone off the streets. I want him to rot in a dark cell in Blackkrait for the rest of his miserable life, but that won't happen unless there's enough evidence to convict him. Problem is, the ZPD can't legally obtain that evidence on their own. All I need is to be left alone, and I can get that evidence for you."

"And in the very likely event that we refuse your 'assistance'?"

"It won't stop me, but I won't be able to guarantee the safety of any officers trying to interfere."

"Is that a threat?" Judy growled.

"This is my war," the Bat-Knight said. "I'll do my best to keep innocents out of the way, but there won't be much I can do if others jump into the crossfire trying to stop me. You can warn the other officers and let me work in peace, or put them directly into harm's way. It's up to you."

Judy didn't want to admit it, but in theory, the idea could work. If Falcone was out of the picture, the funding the mayor was threatening to withhold wouldn't be needed, and having an ally that could bend the law to catch otherwise untouchable criminals would be a valuable resource. But if the Bat-Knight didn't carry out his promise, or simply couldn't, the consequences would be catastrophic, not only for the city's law enforcement, but for every single resident of Zootopia. The risk was simply too great. "The next time we see you, we're dragging you back to the station," Judy said coldly. "The ZPD doesn't collaborate with psychopaths."

The Bat-Knight nodded slowly. "Can't say I expected you to agree, but it was worth a shot," he said, sounding somewhat disappointed. He climbed on top of the lamp post and spread his wings. "Stay safe, Lieutenants." With a single flap of his wings, he took to the skies, disappearing behind the rows of buildings towering above the streets.

"Well that was an... interesting encounter," Nick said. "Also, I just realized his eyes actually _do_ look like little white triangles, just like in the sketch. Guess I owe that Bob Mane guy an apology. And here I thought he was just a lazy artist..."

Judy looked back into the alleyway. Lupus was still laying on the ground, covering in cuts, scrapes, and missing patches of fur, but if his thunderous snoring was of any indication, was still quite alive. If the Bat-Knight apparently hated Falcone as much as he claimed to, why show mercy one of his right-hand mammals? It had struck Judy as especially strange when he specifically mentioned he wanted Falcone imprisoned, rather than dead. Why would such a violent, brutal mammal refrain from killing the one he apparently hated the most?

"Carrots, you alright?" Nick asked, shaking her lightly by the shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No," she said, shaking her head. "Just tired. That's all."

Nick raised an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor, but didn't press the issue further. "If you say so," he said. "Anyway, I think we should probably call the station, get our mob wolf in a cell, get my car towed, go home, and then sleep until noon. Sound good?"

"Yeah, actually," Judy nodded. "Think we should get as much rest as we can. Somehow, I have the feeling we're going to need it for this case."

* * *

 **Author's Ramblings:**

It's a good thing the Bat-Knight has those improbably fast reflexes; the needle on Judy's dart gun probably wouldn't have sedated him as much as it would've impaled him like a tiny shish kebab.

One of the things that I'm finding most difficult about writing this is blending the dark, gritty aspects of most of the modern Batman incarnations with the comparatively light-hearted tone of Zootopia. I almost feel like having blatant references to prostitution and alcohol is already pushing it, even though the story is going to have to deal with tragic, senseless violence such as the murder of Bruce's parents even if I made it as over-the-top and silly as the 60's TV series. Maybe it's just because I'm American, and according to our media, horrific violence is perfectly okay so long as nobody swears or gets naked.

As always, if you have any comments or criticisms, please leave a review! I have a very deep desire to not screw up a Batman fic, and every opinion helps!


End file.
